A meal so memorable, it requires multiple posts!
(A quick word about the sourcing - Mio buys from Eco Friendly Foods a local distributer who sources from small farms in the Shenandoah Valley, including Polyface, which figures highly in Omnivore's Dilemma)
After a pleasant break, we received a seafood course - sauteed skate wing atop tiny wild mushrooms, and tender hunks of golden garlic in a brown butter sauce. It was the least impressive dish of the meal, which is a terrible thing to say, because it was just pitch perfect - a simple portion, a simple sauce, a simple preparation - very good indeed. Definitely something I would have ordered off of the menu and been very satisfied with, but it didn't push me the way the other dishes did.
The next course was a return to form, mixing sweet, bitter, heat and savory in perfect balance on the plate. A crisp, rare slice of duck sat atop a parsnip puree, a mole sauce, and grilled radicchio. Normally, I balk at radicchio, finding it just a bit too bitter (I don't care for hoppy beers either - the bitterness overwhelms my mouth and I can't taste anything else), but the carmelized grill marks toned down the bitterness, as did the sweetness of the duck and the spice of the mole. At first, I thought the parsnip had no role to play, as it was nearly bland, but when it began to mix with the other ingredients, its sweetness and earthiness came out and provided a great foundation for the duck.
Last came dessert, which I enjoyed with a glass of cava, and John enjoyed with coffee. Two desserts were served, a rich and thick chocolate mousse with salted caramel ice cream topped with chopped pistachios, and a subtly fruity panna cotta topped with candied fruit and nuts and tropical foam. The mousse was, of course, excellent. It played into the salted caramel trend while still providing a sure-to-please hit of dark chocolate. As much as it pains me to say this (I feel disloyal to chocolate, as if it were an old friend), the panna cotta was the best. I generally look with suspicion upon the lasting remnants of the micro-gastronomy fad, foams especially. Something about their texture reminds me of scum on a pond, and meat foams especially turn me off - they seem to remove the food so far from what it is. However, this foam was not a ploy - it hid the candied fruit, and its airy texture and rich flavor contrasted with the cool, thick, and subtle panna cotta beneath it. We left most of the mousse in the bowl after working through the ice cream, but savored the last scrapings of the panna cotta.
Already, this meal, an indulgence on all levels, has gone down as one of those we repeat to each other, reciting the ingredients and flavors like a long love poem.
Monday, February 23, 2009
On Mio
Every once in a while, you have a meal that you know, from the moment you walk in to the restaurant, you will remember. My husband and I have had a few of those meals in our lifetime, and we always recall them in quiet moments together. "Mmmmm...," one of us will say. "Remember those oysters/that lamb/that pork belly/those kidneys/that steak." And the other will respond with a emphatic, "Oh, yes," continuing to rave about the brine, the tenderness, the flavor, the surprise or the sear. We do this for meals we make together, John predominately recalling baked goods I've made. He'll put his hand on his stomach, look at me with great love and say, "Remember that king cake? Mmmmmm... King cake." Unfortunately, King Cake comes but once a year, and that's not until tomorrow.
The day before Thanksgiving, Friday the thirteenth, we had such a meal. We went to Mio, a cozy spot very near to us where we've been before. Our first trip to Mio was set up as a suprise to me, because on their bar menu, they have an upscale version of chips, cheese, and gravy. He had me dress up on a random weekday, and walked me the short walk to the restaurant. Outside, he pointed to the menu, and I did a happy sort of squeal. The dish was fantastic - lovely portions and flavors, with homemade cheese curds, very light gravy, and fresh fries. We, as we so often do, talked ourselves into staying that night, and had a housemade charcuterie plate, some delicious seared calamari stuffed with potatoes and salami, and some samples of the meatball dinner being served in the loft portion of the restaurant. I was the first to sample a wine they had just received, a grenache, called Bitch, appropriately, and we had a lovely rapport with the bartender and the owner, Manuel, who spoke to us at length while we ate.
Our second trip, we took it easy, just ordering the sweetbreads and a plate of chicken liver pate and pork rillet. We loved everything about the place - the philosophy of it, the decor, the friendly staff - and we knew that if we had the money, we'd have a standing reservation there. So, we decided to save up our Mio desire, and have a blowout for Valentine's day, a holiday we usually barely celebrate, maybe some wine, gifts we pick up around the house, a reminder to be romantic. Once there on Friday night, we embarked on yet another of those meals, both choosing the tasting menu.
We love tasting menus. While we like a good prix fixe menu, we both love the idea of handing your meal over to the person in the position to know what is best in the kitchen that day - the chef. We rarely have the opportunity to partake of a tasting menu, due to budget constraints, but there was little question of whether we would order the menu that night.
The amuse-bouche came out first, just after our bottle of El Primavera tempranillo was opened. Tempranillo is one of my favorite wines, as it can be so easy that it complements a wide ranging meal, as this one, or so heavily taste of tobacco that it can only truly be enjoyed with a good cigar in fresh air.
The amuse-bouche was an oyster, topped with California caviar and a bit of onion relish, seated on just the right amount of brine. A small, bright little mouthful, a sensuous start, a reminder of the erotic elements of food before the full on feast began.
And a feast it was - the first course was creamy house made mozzarella, topped with crispy bacon and chunks of braised chestnuts atop a chestnut puree. Sweet and rich and salty, with the chestnuts and the nutty mozzarella bringing out each others high notes, this I could have relished many times over. It was followed far too quickly by a radical change in pace: egg ravioli over blood sausage. The change in pace was a little thrilling - here was a chef obviously interested in pushing a willing palate, but it was also a less of a jump than it seemed. I'm certain that the blood sausage was house made, as most sausages and charcuterie are at Mio - they do most of their own butchering, and the egg ravioli was such a display of skill (I'm still bending my head around how it must have been accomplished - I supposed a good sturdy ravioli could have an egg gently cracked into it, be sealed, and then poached. But the timing was spectacular - the yolk was perfectly runny). Also, the dish showed a great understanding of balance. Just as the chestnuts and the mozzarella had melded together, the yolk running from the ravioli, despite what one would think, tempered the richness and saltiness of the blood sausage. It was not a dish I would have ordered from a menu before, but it would be in the top choices now.
Following that came, again too quickly, a dish I would never have ordered. I find white chocolate cloying and too sweet, so when the bowl full of white chocolate risotto topped with crisp sweetbreads came out, I initially balked. One bite, though, and I was a believer - rather than sweet, the risotto tasted almost cheddary, and the exterior of the sweetbreads gave way to a creaminess that matched the risotto. Only problem: the dishes had been coming out one after another, and there was nearly a full serving (real serving, not restaurant serving) of risotto. We were perilously close to full with 3 courses left. We asked the server to slow it down a tad, and the kitchen responded beautifully.
(This is a bit long, I'll save the rest for tomorrow - I'm making myself hungry!)
The day before Thanksgiving, Friday the thirteenth, we had such a meal. We went to Mio, a cozy spot very near to us where we've been before. Our first trip to Mio was set up as a suprise to me, because on their bar menu, they have an upscale version of chips, cheese, and gravy. He had me dress up on a random weekday, and walked me the short walk to the restaurant. Outside, he pointed to the menu, and I did a happy sort of squeal. The dish was fantastic - lovely portions and flavors, with homemade cheese curds, very light gravy, and fresh fries. We, as we so often do, talked ourselves into staying that night, and had a housemade charcuterie plate, some delicious seared calamari stuffed with potatoes and salami, and some samples of the meatball dinner being served in the loft portion of the restaurant. I was the first to sample a wine they had just received, a grenache, called Bitch, appropriately, and we had a lovely rapport with the bartender and the owner, Manuel, who spoke to us at length while we ate.
Our second trip, we took it easy, just ordering the sweetbreads and a plate of chicken liver pate and pork rillet. We loved everything about the place - the philosophy of it, the decor, the friendly staff - and we knew that if we had the money, we'd have a standing reservation there. So, we decided to save up our Mio desire, and have a blowout for Valentine's day, a holiday we usually barely celebrate, maybe some wine, gifts we pick up around the house, a reminder to be romantic. Once there on Friday night, we embarked on yet another of those meals, both choosing the tasting menu.
We love tasting menus. While we like a good prix fixe menu, we both love the idea of handing your meal over to the person in the position to know what is best in the kitchen that day - the chef. We rarely have the opportunity to partake of a tasting menu, due to budget constraints, but there was little question of whether we would order the menu that night.
The amuse-bouche came out first, just after our bottle of El Primavera tempranillo was opened. Tempranillo is one of my favorite wines, as it can be so easy that it complements a wide ranging meal, as this one, or so heavily taste of tobacco that it can only truly be enjoyed with a good cigar in fresh air.
The amuse-bouche was an oyster, topped with California caviar and a bit of onion relish, seated on just the right amount of brine. A small, bright little mouthful, a sensuous start, a reminder of the erotic elements of food before the full on feast began.
And a feast it was - the first course was creamy house made mozzarella, topped with crispy bacon and chunks of braised chestnuts atop a chestnut puree. Sweet and rich and salty, with the chestnuts and the nutty mozzarella bringing out each others high notes, this I could have relished many times over. It was followed far too quickly by a radical change in pace: egg ravioli over blood sausage. The change in pace was a little thrilling - here was a chef obviously interested in pushing a willing palate, but it was also a less of a jump than it seemed. I'm certain that the blood sausage was house made, as most sausages and charcuterie are at Mio - they do most of their own butchering, and the egg ravioli was such a display of skill (I'm still bending my head around how it must have been accomplished - I supposed a good sturdy ravioli could have an egg gently cracked into it, be sealed, and then poached. But the timing was spectacular - the yolk was perfectly runny). Also, the dish showed a great understanding of balance. Just as the chestnuts and the mozzarella had melded together, the yolk running from the ravioli, despite what one would think, tempered the richness and saltiness of the blood sausage. It was not a dish I would have ordered from a menu before, but it would be in the top choices now.
Following that came, again too quickly, a dish I would never have ordered. I find white chocolate cloying and too sweet, so when the bowl full of white chocolate risotto topped with crisp sweetbreads came out, I initially balked. One bite, though, and I was a believer - rather than sweet, the risotto tasted almost cheddary, and the exterior of the sweetbreads gave way to a creaminess that matched the risotto. Only problem: the dishes had been coming out one after another, and there was nearly a full serving (real serving, not restaurant serving) of risotto. We were perilously close to full with 3 courses left. We asked the server to slow it down a tad, and the kitchen responded beautifully.
(This is a bit long, I'll save the rest for tomorrow - I'm making myself hungry!)
Sunday, February 22, 2009
On Brinner
Breakfast for dinner tonight. I'm making oeufs, and John is making a new waffle recipe.
It's been a food centric, and a little hectic, weekend: Instructions to a friend on how to make a cake Thursday, homemade pizza Friday, friends over for dinner Saturday, Food Writing class at CulinAerie this afternoon, fixing the broken handmixer this evening (but not permanently - I see a replacement in my future). The upcoming days will be busy (job applications and possible interviews) and food-centric (Mardi Gras!) as well. Nothing says, "Chill with a hot meal" like brinner.
John always makes breakfast. I never skip it, but I usually have cold cereal, or a grapefruit, or at most, a little oatmeal. Whenever breakfast is made in the morning in our house, it's John that's in the kitchen, spooning precise amounts of batter into the waffle iron, trying to flip the pancakes or turn the eggs, grating cheese for omelets, or sliding a pan of bacon into the oven. While I will make muffins, or banana bread the night before, he loves to wake up, and brew coffee for himself and tea for me, and start the meal.
I would write something mushy about complementary skills and true love, but really, my waffles are ready, and I'd rather eat the results of those skills and that love than write about them any day.
It's been a food centric, and a little hectic, weekend: Instructions to a friend on how to make a cake Thursday, homemade pizza Friday, friends over for dinner Saturday, Food Writing class at CulinAerie this afternoon, fixing the broken handmixer this evening (but not permanently - I see a replacement in my future). The upcoming days will be busy (job applications and possible interviews) and food-centric (Mardi Gras!) as well. Nothing says, "Chill with a hot meal" like brinner.
John always makes breakfast. I never skip it, but I usually have cold cereal, or a grapefruit, or at most, a little oatmeal. Whenever breakfast is made in the morning in our house, it's John that's in the kitchen, spooning precise amounts of batter into the waffle iron, trying to flip the pancakes or turn the eggs, grating cheese for omelets, or sliding a pan of bacon into the oven. While I will make muffins, or banana bread the night before, he loves to wake up, and brew coffee for himself and tea for me, and start the meal.
I would write something mushy about complementary skills and true love, but really, my waffles are ready, and I'd rather eat the results of those skills and that love than write about them any day.
Friday, February 13, 2009
On Valentine's Day
So, despite a rocky past, I have to say, my mother-in-law has always been a good gift giver, but today, she has outdone herself, and may have won some clemency. Upon my return from the gym, as I was stepping into the shower, the telltale door knock followed by "wham" of a package hitting the floor sounded through the apartment. I robed up, and after being certain no one was in the hall, I retrieved a Dean and Deluca package full of cheese - a Carmody Cheese, a blue, a triple cream goat and a cheddar wheel.
A great gift, a thoughtful gift, and one that fits in the Valentine's day tradition of great food without going overboard on the chocolate.
Nice.
A great gift, a thoughtful gift, and one that fits in the Valentine's day tradition of great food without going overboard on the chocolate.
Nice.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
On a Winter Lull
So, between the week in LA (ahhh, a break from real winter), and the week before it busy with volunteer stuff, I haven't had much time to be thinking any truly deep food thoughts. Here's a run-down of the light - n- fluffy things I have been doing:
* Making my gallbladder scream for mercy with peanut butter stuffed French toast at Potholder Cafe in Long Beach, CA. Seriously, wow.
* Pondering how to make the above mentioned delicacy at home. Think it should be easy, Good peanut butter spread between two pieces of good stale bread and soaked quickly in a fast custard. Should work nicely, when I'm up to try to murder myself with goodness again.
*Re-reading Omnivore's Dilemma and pondering ways to re-commit myself to better food.
*Making a recipe I ripped out of the year-old Gourmet magazine someone had left in the gym of my apartment. Its called "Sweet Dough" and its a very lightly sweet bread. Turned out very successfully - a possible candidate for French toast, even.
*Making old school quick fix meals that I used to make all the time in grad school, and pondering the great memories that come with - coming home from a day of teaching to a steaming pot of beans. Hell's Belle and Picky Man coming over (and the house feeling oddly empty when they didn't). Nabil teaching me how to properly pit an olive.
*Reading Eat This Not That Supermarket Survival Guide, and marveling at how clearly and easily the authors put information that can be very hard to discern even for the most extraordinarily anal label readers (like me). The book was a gift from my mother in law, who noticed how my husband and I obsessed over her copy, which was about fast food, over the Christmas holidays. The books illustrations do a great job of making disgusting food look awful.
*Speaking of disgusting food looking awful, several hat tips go around the web as over the course of 2 days nearly every blog I read has linked to This is Why You're Fat, a photographic depiction of some of the most awful food ever. Personal favorites include (in the order they appear on the website - direct links don't seem to be possible): 12 Bird True Love Roast (which falls in the same category as Turducken and Bacon Explosion for me - meat stuffed with me, just gross sounding); The Double Bacon Hamburger Fatty Melt, which uses grilled cheese sandwiches as buns; The Hamdog, just for the name; Spaghetti Meatball on a stick, the picture of which is absolutely vil;, The Meat Ship; Gregory's 120 ounce Steak, topped with apparently superfluous mushrooms; the Bacon donut, which seems doubly wasteful; Happy Meal Pizza, of which there's a before and after baking shot; and the Hot Beef Sundae, which gets points both for the name, and for the cherry on top of it.
There's also a list of things on the site, which, embarrassingly, I would actually eat. In the spirit of full disclosure, they are: Frito Pie (I mean, how could you not); King Cake (duh again - I actually make king cake); Waffle Couch (chips cheese and gravy with waffle fries); Apple Pie topped with Cheddar Cheese; Snickers pie; French Fry Encased Hot Dog on a Stick (Basically a corn dog, with potato coating instead. Yum); Deep Fried Mars bar; and I'll readily admit that I would do my best on the Giant Breakfast burrito, although I'd probably have to give up before I reached the full 7 pounds.
Best thing on the site, by far: The Snack Stadium, which I may attempt to recreate one day.
*I've been loving the latest NYTimes Foodie blog, Proof, for a well rounded, multifaceted view of booze. If you read it, like most websites, and most NYTimes articles, ignore the sanctimonious commenters.
*I've developed a love for the Manhattan, which my husband makes with perfection. A great winter substitute for the Mint Julep.
* Making my gallbladder scream for mercy with peanut butter stuffed French toast at Potholder Cafe in Long Beach, CA. Seriously, wow.
* Pondering how to make the above mentioned delicacy at home. Think it should be easy, Good peanut butter spread between two pieces of good stale bread and soaked quickly in a fast custard. Should work nicely, when I'm up to try to murder myself with goodness again.
*Re-reading Omnivore's Dilemma and pondering ways to re-commit myself to better food.
*Making a recipe I ripped out of the year-old Gourmet magazine someone had left in the gym of my apartment. Its called "Sweet Dough" and its a very lightly sweet bread. Turned out very successfully - a possible candidate for French toast, even.
*Making old school quick fix meals that I used to make all the time in grad school, and pondering the great memories that come with - coming home from a day of teaching to a steaming pot of beans. Hell's Belle and Picky Man coming over (and the house feeling oddly empty when they didn't). Nabil teaching me how to properly pit an olive.
*Reading Eat This Not That Supermarket Survival Guide, and marveling at how clearly and easily the authors put information that can be very hard to discern even for the most extraordinarily anal label readers (like me). The book was a gift from my mother in law, who noticed how my husband and I obsessed over her copy, which was about fast food, over the Christmas holidays. The books illustrations do a great job of making disgusting food look awful.
*Speaking of disgusting food looking awful, several hat tips go around the web as over the course of 2 days nearly every blog I read has linked to This is Why You're Fat, a photographic depiction of some of the most awful food ever. Personal favorites include (in the order they appear on the website - direct links don't seem to be possible): 12 Bird True Love Roast (which falls in the same category as Turducken and Bacon Explosion for me - meat stuffed with me, just gross sounding); The Double Bacon Hamburger Fatty Melt, which uses grilled cheese sandwiches as buns; The Hamdog, just for the name; Spaghetti Meatball on a stick, the picture of which is absolutely vil;, The Meat Ship; Gregory's 120 ounce Steak, topped with apparently superfluous mushrooms; the Bacon donut, which seems doubly wasteful; Happy Meal Pizza, of which there's a before and after baking shot; and the Hot Beef Sundae, which gets points both for the name, and for the cherry on top of it.
There's also a list of things on the site, which, embarrassingly, I would actually eat. In the spirit of full disclosure, they are: Frito Pie (I mean, how could you not); King Cake (duh again - I actually make king cake); Waffle Couch (chips cheese and gravy with waffle fries); Apple Pie topped with Cheddar Cheese; Snickers pie; French Fry Encased Hot Dog on a Stick (Basically a corn dog, with potato coating instead. Yum); Deep Fried Mars bar; and I'll readily admit that I would do my best on the Giant Breakfast burrito, although I'd probably have to give up before I reached the full 7 pounds.
Best thing on the site, by far: The Snack Stadium, which I may attempt to recreate one day.
*I've been loving the latest NYTimes Foodie blog, Proof, for a well rounded, multifaceted view of booze. If you read it, like most websites, and most NYTimes articles, ignore the sanctimonious commenters.
*I've developed a love for the Manhattan, which my husband makes with perfection. A great winter substitute for the Mint Julep.
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